In the bustling landscape of the Kyaka II Refugee Settlement in western Uganda, a quiet revolution is taking place, one sparked not by protest, but by the rhythmic clanging of wrenches and the low hum of internal combustion engines. At the center of this transformation are women like Elina Iraguha, a mother who is redefining what it means to provide for a family while simultaneously dismantling generations of gender-based expectations. Each morning, as she prepares her five-year-old daughter for the day, Elina shares a simple but profound truth: “I tell my daughter I’m in school, too. I’m learning, too.” For Elina, this isn’t a traditional classroom of textbooks and chalkboards; it is a workshop filled with the scent of motor oil and the intricate puzzles of automotive repair.
The choice to pursue motor vehicle mechanics—a field long considered the exclusive domain of men in East Africa—was a deliberate one for Elina. Born in Rwanda but a resident of Kyaka II since she was only a year old, her life has been defined by the search for stability. Now, through a specialized vocational training program, she is finding that stability in the most unlikely of places: under the hood of a car. “I chose mechanics because I want to earn a living and show that women can succeed in any field,” she says, her voice carrying the weight of both personal ambition and a broader social mission.
This initiative is part of a strategic intervention by UN Women, conducted in partnership with Peace Winds Japan and supported by funding from the Government of Japan. Known as the “Second Chance Education” program, the intervention is designed to reach women who have been marginalized by conflict, displacement, and poverty. By focusing on marketable, high-demand skills, the program provides more than just a trade; it offers a pathway to self-sufficiency, psychological confidence, and community leadership. In the context of a refugee settlement, where resources are scarce and the future often feels precarious, these skills are essential components of regional peace and security. Sustainable livelihoods reduce the desperation that can lead to local conflicts, creating a more harmonious environment for both refugees and the host communities that surround them.
The ripple effect of this empowerment is immediate. As these women gain independence, they do not keep their success to themselves. The earnings and expertise they acquire are being funneled back into their families and neighborhoods. Whether it is a sister paying for a younger sibling’s school fees, a graduate opening a business that doubles as a training center for other girls, or a daughter proving to her father that “men’s work” is a myth, these women are lifting their entire communities as they rise.
Among Elina’s peers is Ange Shokano, whose journey to the workshop was born out of the ashes of conflict. Ange arrived at Kyaka II in 2019 after her family fled the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). Their home had been caught in the crosshairs of armed rebel groups, making life an exercise in survival. While Uganda offered the peace they craved, it could not immediately provide the prosperity they needed. As the second of seven children, Ange felt the pressure of her family’s financial constraints early on. Two years ago, she was forced to drop out of school when the burden of tuition fees became insurmountable.
It was Ange’s mother who recognized the potential of the mechanics program. “She was the first person to encourage me,” Ange recalls. “She told me, ‘I don’t have money to keep you in school, but you can go for this training, and this will help you sustain yourself.’” This maternal blessing turned a moment of educational loss into a new kind of opportunity. For Ange, the transition from a traditional student to a mechanic-in-training was a mental hurdle as much as a physical one.
The psychological barriers to entry in male-dominated trades are often more daunting than the technical ones. Elina Iraguha admits she had been fascinated by cars since childhood, yet the visual landscape of her youth lacked female role models in the garage. “I used to only see men working as mechanics,” she notes. “How come women can drive—but not repair? I said, ‘What is this!’” Her laughter masks a serious critique of the status quo. Now, as she studies the engine of a Toyota Corolla, she is no longer an observer; she is an active participant in her own destiny. “I see people with their own businesses because of these skills. My dream is to own my own workshop.”
The physical demands of the job initially gave Ange Shokano pause. On her first day, she looked at the heavy components and the grit required for the work and felt a flicker of doubt. “I was worried about the energy and strength it would take,” she explains. But that doubt was short-lived. She realized that the greatest obstacle was her own perception. “Then I realized, ‘It’s you that poisons your mind. I can do anything.’” This shift in mindset is a core pillar of the program. The curriculum teaches that mechanics is a discipline of logic and tools, not just raw power. As the saying goes among the trainees, changing a tire doesn’t require massive muscles—it requires a jack and the knowledge of how to use it.
Support at home has been a mixed bag for many of the women, reflecting the deep-seated cultural norms they are working to change. Elina’s father was initially a skeptic. When she first told him of her plans, his reaction was one of dismissal: “That job is for men! Leave that job for your brothers!” Elina did not argue; she simply asked for the chance to prove herself. The turning point came when her father watched her successfully navigate a series of complex repairs. His skepticism turned to pride, a microcosm of the shift the program hopes to achieve on a societal level.
However, the “tough woman” stereotype remains a hurdle. Elina observes that some members of the community view women in mechanics with a mix of fear and suspicion, labeling them as “too tough.” It is a common social tax paid by women who enter spaces where they are not expected. Elina remains unfazed. “It is about my own motivation, my will, and what I want to get in life that will push me forward,” she says. She understands that her work speaks louder than any rumor.
The long-term vision for these women is not just employment, but entrepreneurship. Elina’s ten-year plan is ambitious: a large-scale workshop capable of accommodating 50 learners at a time, with a specific focus on mentoring other women. She wants to dismantle the idea that technical skills are gendered. “Many women overlook this job because they think it is only for men,” she says. “And yet it is just a skill. Anyone can learn it.”
Ange Shokano is equally forward-looking. After just one month, she and Elina have already mastered tire and brake repairs. Upon completion of the six-month course, they will receive formal certification and a “start-up kit” containing the essential tools needed to launch their own enterprises. Ange hopes to form a cooperative garage with her fellow female trainees, creating a safe and supportive environment where they can continue to hone their craft while earning a steady income. “It’s important for women to focus on themselves,” Ange insists. “Learn mechanics or hairdressing—whatever skills you need to sustain yourself.”
As the international community observes the International Day of Education, the stories of Elina and Ange serve as a powerful testament to the fact that education is the ultimate form of agency. It is the foundation of gender equality, providing the tools necessary to challenge norms and rebuild lives from the ground up. In the refugee settlements of Uganda, a certificate in mechanics is more than a piece of paper; it is a key to doors that were once thought to be permanently locked.
“Education is the key,” Ange says, reflecting on her journey from a school dropout to a future business owner. “Education is the key to the doors that had been closed in my future.” For these women, the future is no longer a distant, uncertain prospect—it is something they are building with their own hands, one engine at a time.
